Project ZEAL

Scene 6 - Naomi's Dorm (Symmetry)

Frustrated with her studies, Naomi slammed her book shut and violently swept it off the table she was sitting at. Tired of reading for the moment, the student walked over to her window and looked out to see the one person she did not want to see at the moment -- her aunt. Almost immediately below her, two stories down in the student quad, stood Sessimine with a crowd of students and admirers surrounding her. With lips clinched together tightly, Naomi banged the side of her fist again the dorm wall.

Why must I be constantly barraged with my inferiority to this woman? Its as if everywhere I turn, something or someone has to remind me that I simply can't stack up to the rest of my family! Everywhere! I can't even find peace in my own room! Naomi turned toward a mirror that hung on the wall across from her. If she never had to leave her room - if she never had to see everyone else around her, she would have been happy. In isolation, Naomi was pleased with herself. She liked her peach-coloured skin and the few freckles that dotted her face; together they made her look warm and full of life. She was content with her deep red-coloured hair and the way she was able to tie it into a ponytail - pleased even, with how perky it made her look. Naomi felt cute every morning when she looked into the mirror before setting out for class; it was only when cute came face-to-face with beautiful that she felt so sickeningly inadequate.

Naomi breathed in and sighed deeply as she turned back to the window, only to be momentarily blinded by a quick flash of light as the sun reflected off of her aunt's hair. Sessimine had wonderful space-black coloured hair that crept midway down her neck; it was very straight, but not dull and bodiless. What proved to amaze so many, however, was the way she had selectively dyed strands of it silver -- not grey -- but dazzling silver, which would give off the appearance that her hair was sparkling, only further enhancing the sophisticated aura the instructor gave off. It also served to drive Naomi mad, for it seemed as if she was only one who ever got blinded by it.

After gently rubbing her eyes, Naomi looked back down at Sessimine - who she had grown to call her mother as she was unable to remember anything about her biological one - quickly sinking into one of the self-depreciating states of mind that prolonged introspection, combined with the sight of the woman standing outside her window, often brought about. Ugh! It makes me sick just looking at her! Its as if she stole all the genes for being pretty off the family tree and left me with nothing! Sure, that makes your job easier, but what about me? How am I supposed to carry out the family tradition of being a successful enchantress? I'd have trouble charming the family cat if we could have kept it here. I'm doomed to sully the Maruyama family's name for generations! I grew up wanting to be just like mommy, but there's no way my daughter would ever want to be like me -- if by some miracle a man happened to takes his eyes off my own mother long enough to notice me! Grr...!

Frustrated once more, Naomi stomped one of her feet and began to pace around, letting out steam in the process. As fast as she had villanized Sessimine, she quickly began to feel badly for holding such a terrible grudge against the woman who had put a hold on her own personal life to raise the orphaned daughter of her sister. Perhaps that was what bothered Naomi the most; upon honest introspection, there was really very little she could hold against her mother outside the typical spats every mother and daughter -- or father and son for that matter -- got into. No matter how hard she tried to justify her feelings otherwise, her frustration was born out of jealousy and the compulsive desire to please. Jealousy could be overcome; unfortunately, the yearning for acceptance could not -- especially since the only way Naomi felt she could learn her mother's approval was to succeed in the art which she loathed with every fibre of her being.

Stepping back towards the window so that she might beg for forgiveness behind her mother's back, Naomi looked down into the quad only to see that Sessimine was nowhere to be found and that her crowd of admirers had dispersed. Despondent, the young lady picked up the book she had thrown away moments earlier and sat down to begin her studies once more. Before Naomi could actually focus her thoughts and make sense of what she was reading, a knock came from outside her door. Somewhat miffed about the poor timing of the disturbance and still disappointed in her own display of angst, she stood up and answered the door with her head hung low, only to be gently surprised at what she saw. Draped against the floor was the familiar puddle of black and maroon silk which blossomed from the form-fitting gown that Sessimine always wore underneath her subfusc.

"Mother! What are you doing here?"

"Did I come at a bad time? You sound as if you don't want me around."

"No! Not at all... Er, in reference to the time part. Of course I want you here. Please, come in!"

The instructor gave Naomi the bewildered look she was all too familiar with dispensing and made her way into the student's dorm. Just as the young lady was about to shut the door, a young man -- the same student Sessimine had "claimed" during class earlier in the day -- calmly made his way in and stood nearby his mistress. Stunned, Naomi stuttered in disbelief and shook her hands about in an effort to convey her thoughts. Unable to pull anything to mind, the flustered student peered out into the dorm hallway, making sure that no one was outside to witness the two guests enter her room, then swiftly shut the door and leaned upon it, slowly sliding to the floor. Unable to figure out what was wrong with her daughter, Sessimine gave the young woman a quizzical look and inquired as to what was troubling her.

"Naomi dear, what's wrong? You've acting rather strange."

"Nothing, mother. Nothing at all. I'm just... tired. Actually, stressed. I'm very stressed out right now. I've got a lot of things to do and not enough time to do them."

Sessimine nodded. "I know the feeling all too well. If you think attending school is rough, you should try teaching it -- and then conducting research on top of that! But... You know what I do when I get stressed out?"

Deep inside, Naomi cringed. She had a gut feeling it involved something she didn't want to know about, but didn't want to risk offending her mother by not following up on her question. "What?"

The instructor snapped her fingers once and the young man reached into a shiny red handbag, removing a long, narrow cigarette holder and a tiny, ornate box with cloves inside. Smiling as she fitted a cigarette onto the end of it, Sessimine held the elegant utensil to her lips and released a gentle puff of air. Out of nowhere, an intense burst of flame sprung out of the end of the cigarette, nearly giving Naomi a heart attack -- and curiously enough, just barely singeing the end of the clove. Realizing that her daughter was shocked more than impressed, Sessimine frowned as she addressed the recovering student.

"You didn't seem to appreciate my trick. That took me months to get down right! You have no idea how many cigarettes I must have accidentally incinerated in the process! I'll tell you what, though -- it seems to impress everyone else. You've just got to make sure you're not standing too close to someone else or you might end up with a gown or two on fire... Not that I would know from personal experience, mind you! Now, care to try one?"

"Er... No thanks."

Sessimine rolled her eyes. "Suit yourself. I try and give you something to ease your mind, but you turn me down! Whatever will I do with you, child?" Looking around herself for a moment, the instructor turned back to Naomi and handed her the cigarette piece. "Here, hold this for a second."

Naomi looked down and stuttered again before opening up a window. She didn't find the smoke to be bothersome -- quite the contrary, actually -- she merely didn't want her room smelling of the aroma for weeks to come. "But I said I didn't want..."

"I didn't ask you to have a smoke, I just asked you to hold it." After untying the sash that held her subfusc together and draping the garment over her butler's arm, Sessimine coughed politely in an effort to grab her daughter's attention. Naomi, who had gotten distracted by the shouting of several students in the quad below, turned back to her mother only to wish that she had continued watching her peers below. A double-standard that she never quite understood, enchantresses and enchanters alike were known for their fashionably risqué manner of dress -- and Sessimine was no exception. Despite knowing what to expect, Naomi still found it unnerving to see her mother in a low-cut dress; whether it was the fact that a woman pushing three-hundred looked like one approaching thirty or rather that it simply reminded Naomi of her own relative imperfections, she wasn't quite sure. All she knew was that she was very thankful for subfuscs, for no one ever attempted to reveal their bosoms even the slightest while wearing one -- that was simply tasteless, not fashionably risqué.

After plucking her cigarette from her daughter's hand, Sessimine quickly scanned the room for a comfortable place to sit, only to realize that Naomi had no cushions or pillows to lay upon; other than her bed in the next room, there were only a couple of wooden chairs to sit down on. With a muted sigh of discontent, the enchantress seated herself at the desk and motioned for her daughter to join her.

"I simply loathe these torture devices... After the first few years of your studies, you won't have to sit in wooden chairs anymore. Why, I can't remember now how I managed to actually pay attention while being so uncomfortable! You should have told me that your room lacked proper furnishings! I'll have to bring you cushions first thing in the morning... To think that my daughter has to suffer through this! I'm going to have a talk with the dormitory steward tomorrow. Are all of the rooms in this building like this?"

Naomi sat down and looked around the room nonchalantly. "Its... really... not that... bad. I mean, I just sleep here. The communal rooms downstairs are wonderful. Honestly."

"Hmph! I'm still going to hunt down that steward. At the very least, you will have a more suitable environment to live." Sessimine took a long drag on her cigarette and leaned back her head, exhaling the smoke in the shape of tiny, five-sided stars. Amused with herself, the instructor returned her head to conversation level only to find the same neutral look on Naomi's face still staring back at her. "Well, I can do more complicated smoke figures if you like, but something tells me that pink hearts won't impress you, will they?"

The student finally chuckled. "No, I guess not. So why are you here, exactly?"

Sessimine glared at Naomi with an exasperated look on her face. "Pardon me! I wasn't aware I needed a reason to stop by my very own daughter's residence!" Just before the young lady could frown and begin to express her apologies for being rude, the instructor smiled and took in another breath of smoke, exhaling more tiny stars in her daughter's direction. "Oh calm down, you should know by now when I'm merely giving you a hard time. You're so easy to manipulate, I don't even have to charm you to get the desired results!"

Naomi rolled her eyes. Although she appreciated the fact that she was the one person who Sessimine never tried to bully with her enchantments, she didn't appreciate the constant harassment her mother gave her over her emotional frailty; it certainly did little for her already low sense of self-esteem. "So like I was saying..."

"Yes, yes. I'm afraid I do have something important to talk about. I'm concerned about your academic performance. I gave you an easy a question as I possibly could have in class today and you were totally unable to answer it. Did you even read the assigned passages beforehand?"

Naomi scratched the back of her head. "Well... kinda sorta. Briefly, yes."

"Briefly, huh?" Sessimine cocked her head to the side. "Do you really think I'm going to buy that? You're a terrible liar."

The student merely looked away and blushed. "I'm sorry. I just got a little behind. I'll try harder, I promise."

"You don't sound very enthusiastic. You're finally done with all of your core education; this is the subject you really wanted to study! You're no longer a boring wizard, you're an enchantress! This is your passion!" Sessimine made a few grandiose gestures to accompany her advice.

Naomi looked away. My passion? You mean your passion. This is the subject you wanted me to study. Generally Sessimine was a fantastic judge of character, but when it came to the family trade, she seemed entirely incapable of even fathoming for a second that her child would desire to do something other than to follow in her footsteps. Forcing a smile, Naomi looked back at her mother and responded more cheerfully. "I'll keep at it. This has just been a rough week, that's all."

Sessimine smiled back. "Excellent! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a steward to hunt down." As the enchantress stood to her feet, without any verbal prompting, her butler suddenly sprung to life once more and dressed the elder woman in her scarlet subfusc.

"I thought you were going to do that tomorrow."

"I was, but I have a little time to kill before I attend a meeting this evening."

"A meeting? What sort of meeting?"

"Oh, nothing particularly interesting. One of the routine get-togethers of the administrators in the five colleges. You just worry about catching up on your readings for class tomorrow." After giving her daughter a quick kiss on the forehead, Sessimine dismissed herself from the room, her charmed hand in tow. Feeling a little better than she did earlier, Naomi returned to her studies, her attitude towards them no different than before.

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